<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>The Pink Balloon by foreverHenry919</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24592168">The Pink Balloon</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/foreverHenry919/pseuds/foreverHenry919'>foreverHenry919</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Forever (TV 2014)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Canon, Crimes &amp; Criminals, Eventual Romance, Fantasy, Gen, Male-Female Friendship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 06:41:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,439</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24592168</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/foreverHenry919/pseuds/foreverHenry919</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
            <p>This is a prequel to "The Morgan Chronicles" although it started out as a standalone one-shot. Just a little fun with a balloon.</p>
          </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Abe Morgan &amp; Henry Morgan, Jo Martinez &amp; Henry Morgan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Pink Balloon Ch 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/10917951">The Morgan Chronicles</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/foreverHenry919/pseuds/foreverHenry919">foreverHenry919</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>This is a prequel to "The Morgan Chronicles" although it started out as a standalone one-shot. Just a little fun with a balloon.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I do not own "Forever TV 2014" show or any of its characters. Keeping hope that we'll all see them again in new episodes, a mini-series, or Broadway musical.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Fort Tryon Park, Heather Gardens in Manhattan ... </p><p> </p><p>The lifelessform of Jordan Evers sat on the park bench just as her friend, Charmaine Hudgins, had found her. Arms at her sides, mouth agape, head lolled over to the right and resting on the back of the bench. Uniformed officers kept a neck-craning crowd of onlookers behind the yellow crime scene tape. Detectives Jo Martinez and Mike Hanson questioned a distraught Charmaine as she sat on a bench on the opposite side of the footpath.  </p><p>Assistant ME Lucas Wahl took notes on a small notepad and stood behind his boss, Dr. Henry Morgan, who crouched in front of Evers, his hands on his knees as he carefully examined her. His eyes roamed over her clothing and the appearance and position of her body. He then straightened up and squinted at Evers while informing Lucas of the tentative COD.  </p><p>"It appears she was asphyxiated," Henry declared. "But not in an ordinary manner."  </p><p>Lucas nodded and added that to his notes. "Not in an ordinary manner," he murmured to himself. Then, realizing what Henry had just said, he asked, "Wait. How?"  </p><p>"Yeah, how, Henry?" Jo asked as she and Mike rejoined them after having questioned Charmaine and a few other park goers.  </p><p>"Dry ice," Henry replied, still gazing at the young victim.  </p><p>"Ice?" his assistant and the two detectives all asked in unison.  </p><p>"Not ice; dry ice," Henry corrected. "It would appear that she unknowingly ingested it. Quite an ingenious method, I might add," he said, almost admiringly.  </p><p>"I don't think people are supposed to eat that stuff," Lucas muttered, frowning.  </p><p>"I'm sure that most people are aware of that or, at least, I would hope so," Henry commented. "However --- " He pointed to a medium-sized drinking cup lying on its side on the ground near her feet, a blue liquid spilled from it. " --- in our victim's case, it apparently was placed in her drink as a coolant instead of regular ice. Once she swallowed it, it triggered laryngeal spasms closing off her airway." He turned to face his colleagues and continued. "The substance can stick to either the tongue or throat on the way down resulting in frostbite --- your tissue freezes and dies." </p><p>"Geez! Somebody sure hated her," Mike concluded.  </p><p>"What information could her friend provide?" Henry asked, glancing over at the victim's distraught young friend.  </p><p>"Said they usually met here the Saturday after payday but this time she found her here like this," Mike replied. He filled him in on a few other details such as they both worked for the City Planning Department but in different units. They'd been friends for the past two years. Both single but the victim had recently broken up with her last boyfriend.  </p><p>"Aagghh, the ex-boyfriend thingy," Lucas mock-agonized.  </p><p>"There are no obvious signs of a struggle," Henry told the detectives. "Whoever did this was able to get close enough to her because she felt they posed no threat."  </p><p>"Aagghh, sneaky, bad ex-boyfriend," Lucas mock-agonized again.  </p><p>"Lucas," Henry admonished him. "We have no way of knowing who did this to her. Remember, we won't know for sure until --- "  </p><p>" --- until we get her back to the lab," Lucas recited. He'd heard it countless times. And the Doc was always right. "But I'll betcha anything it was the sneaky, bad ex-boyfriend."  </p><p>"People carry cell phones nowadays," Henry stated.  </p><p>"Well, most people do," Jo interjected, tilting her look Henry's way. His brows knitted slightly as he eyed her and then returned his attention to the victim.  </p><p>"We failed to find one on her person," he said, motioning to the victim.  </p><p>"Perp take off with it?" Mike speculated.  </p><p>"Possibly," Henry murmured to himself. "Have you attempted that ping thing that you do to her phone yet?" he asked louder to both of them. </p><p>"Yeah, but nothing," Jo informed him, chuckling. "The search for clues extends out to a 25-yard perimeter surrounding the crime scene."  </p><p>Just then, a uni approached and told them that one of the onlookers believed they had recorded the victim's last moments. Henry and Lucas remained with the body while Jo and Mike walked over to speak with the woman.  </p><p>"Hi, I'm Det. Jo Martinez, NYPD," Jo told her while they displayed their badges. "This is my partner, Det. Mike Hanson. Your name, Ma'am?"  </p><p>"Helen. Helen Upchurch," she replied. "This is my husband, Simon. Our first vacation as retired folks. From Nebraska. Never thought we'd be part of, of a murder investigation," her last words breaking up through a nervous giggle. "Something to tell the folks back home about." A beaming Simon nodded in agreement.  </p><p>Jo and Mike exchanged a look, nodding politely. Mike asked, "You got something for us?"  </p><p>"Oh, yes," Helen replied, giving her phone to Jo and she accepted it with a blue glove. The woman pointed to a paused video on the phone's screen. "I was paying more attention to that funny looking balloon up there when I made the recording," she said, pointing upward and over their shoulders. They turned around to see what she was pointing to and saw a bulbous-shaped, pink balloon roughly 60" in diameter with a thick, white rope tied to and hanging from it, hovering about 20 feet above the bench and the victim's body.  </p><p>"It's been there for nearly an hour not moving. Strangest thing," Simon told them. </p><p>Mike peered at the balloon then over Jo's shoulder as they both watched the video on Helen's phone. "Mind if we keep this for a while?" Mike asked her.  </p><p>"Uh, well, that's my --- I mean, we're only here a couple more days before returning to Nebraska," she protested. After Jo promised to return it by the next day, she reluctantly relented. "Okay. If it'll help you find out what happened to that poor girl."  </p><p>Jo placed the phone into a plastic evidence bag and Mike gave his card to Helen before they rejoined Henry and Lucas.  </p><p>"Lucas, let's get her body back to the lab," Henry told him. "The sooner we start on the autopsy the better."  </p><p>When Lucas only half-responded, Henry turned to look directly at him. Lucas was craning his neck back and squinting up at something, shielding his eyes from the afternoon sun with one hand over his brow. Henry slowly looked up and took on Lucas' posture as he gazed at the large, pink balloon directly above them.  </p><p>"Waddaya make of that?" Mike asked, eyeing the balloon.  </p><p>"How can it just stay in one spot like that?" Lucas asked, grimacing and squinting harder.  </p><p>"Perhaps it's a magic balloon," Henry teased, smiling. The memory of a similar-looking balloon, a red one, presented itself.  </p><p>"Just hovering there like that. Weird," Jo said.  </p><p>"Oh, I don't know," Henry said more to himself, tilting his head to the side. "I happen to think it's quite lovely."  </p><p>Almost as soon as he'd uttered those words, the balloon began to descend straight down as if connected to a pulley. They all took a few steps back as it lowered itself to eye level with Henry. It then rose up a bit then back down. He slowly took a step back and it slowly advanced a few inches toward him. He slowly stepped to his right and the balloon followed him, maintaining the same distance between them.  </p><p>"Whoa, Big Guy," an awestruck Lucas drew out. "Looks like it wants to dance with you."  </p><p>Henry stepped to his left and the balloon kept pace with him. It didn't frighten him but he was now aware that it was much more than a simple item of amusement.  </p><p>"Careful, Doc," Mike warned him. "Could be a drone wired with explosives."  </p><p>"A killer balloon?" a skeptical Jo asked, frowning. "Probably just some remote-controlled device sent here to yank our chains." But when she saw the balloon draw even closer to Henry, she also warned him that maybe he should step away from it.  </p><p>"It's alright, Detective," he replied, pleasantly amused by the colorful object. "I think it's trying to tell me something."  </p><p>"Tell you something?" Mike repeated. He couldn't believe his ears. "More like there's some kinda gas leaking out of it, leaving you with that slap-happy look on your face. I'm for you gettin' away from it, too."  </p><p>"No, it's, it's definitely trying to communicate something to me," Henry told them.  </p><p>The balloon began to move backward a couple of feet and paused, then advanced toward Henry, repeating the motion. The centuries-old ME with pursed lips and fisted hands, arms swinging determinedly, followed it along the footpath away from the park entrance and into the shrubbery near the edge of the pond. The others followed behind Henry as he was led by the balloon. It suddenly stopped and hovered over a spot above the shrubbery and dipped down three times as if tugged by an invisible hand. As he drew closer to the spot, the balloon ascended and hovered once again about 20 feet above them.  </p><p>Henry quickly lowered his eyes to the ground and looked around then back up at their strange, non-human visitor. "Here," he said, looking back down at the ground and squatting.  </p><p>"What's here?" Jo asked, looking up and around but mostly between Henry and the balloon. She, Mike, Lucas, and members of the search team watched in awe as Henry appeared to interact with the balloon that seemed to have both a mind and a will of its own.  </p><p>"Please ring the victim's cell phone," Henry asked, addressing no one in particular. Since Jo now possessed Charmaine's phone, she used it to dial the victim's. A moment later, he heard a buzzing sound near a large rock in the underbrush. He bent down and moved dirt and leaves aside to retrieve what appeared to be the victim's cell phone.  </p><p>"Aha!" he declared victoriously with a wide grin as he stood back up with it in his gloved hand and he passed it to Mike.  </p><p>Mike produced a clear, plastic evidence bag and opened it. Henry dropped the phone into it and Mike zipped it close and dropped the bagged phone into his pocket. They all snatched their heads up to see the balloon rise quickly away in a 45-degree angle as if on a wire. They watched it grow smaller as it then moved horizontally away from them in an easterly direction.  </p><p>"What just happened here?" Lucas asked, incredulous.  </p><p>"Now I've seen everything," Mike dryly remarked. "People drinkin' dry ice bombs and a balloon that not only talks, but talks only to Henry. Surprise, surprise."  </p><p> </p><p>vvvv  </p><p> </p><p>The rooftop terrace above Abe's Antiques was graced with the presence of only two: Henry and Jo. They were enjoying the last of their dinner meal they'd prepared together earlier under the watchful eye of Abe. Leery of giving others free access to "his" kitchen, he'd hovered around them like a worried mother hen, giving unwanted advice and issuing even less-heeded warnings. Finally, Henry had given him the boot by reminding him that Jo had a gun and he had a thick belt.  </p><p>"Please don't burn my kitchen down while you guys are smooching," he half-seriously begged them over his shoulder as he was leaving.  </p><p>Henry and Jo chuckled at the remembrance of his parting words. "Of course, neither of us would ever harm him," Jo said.  </p><p>"Never," Henry replied, smiling. "Wouldn't think of it. Especially after the canings I received while growing up."  </p><p>Surprised, Jo sat up straight and asked, "Your parents?!"  </p><p>"No, no, the, uh, Headmaster of a school I'd attended," he replied, his smile flattening out at the memory.  </p><p>"I've ... heard of that," she said quietly and frowned slightly.  </p><p>"Common and accepted practice for many decades, I'm afraid," he said with a sigh. "But when my mother found out, ho, ho, she had our Stable Master, a former lion tamer, accompany her to my school so that he could show the Headmaster what it felt like to be whipped into submission by a larger opponent."  </p><p>Jo laughed. "Sounds like your mother and I would have gotten along great."  </p><p>"I don't doubt it," he agreed.  </p><p>"Is she still ... with you?" she cautiously asked. It was rare for him to mention anything about his upbringing or his parents. She felt encouraged that this tough nut's outer shell might be starting to crack.  </p><p>"No. She died many years ago," he quietly replied. "My father and my three siblings, as well." His mood became pensive and after a few moments somberly added, "All of them gone. Many years ago." He perked back up and said, "But don't let me bring the mood down tonight. Time to celebrate. We get to do the dishes!" he said with a wide grin.  </p><p>Jo rolled her eyes but her wide grin matched his. "Oh, whoop-tee-doo."  </p><p>As they rose from their chairs to gather up the dishes, their conversation turned to their newest murder victim and eventually to the strange, pink balloon that had seemingly taken a liking to Henry.  </p><p>"How should I put that in my report without sounding crazy?" Jo asked him.  </p><p>"Just either leave it out or ... sprinkle the word 'coincidentally' throughout your report." He chuckled when met with another eye roll from her and a wry thanks.  </p><p>"It was a rather odd experience," he admitted. "It reminds me of a similar one I had had several years ago while in Paris."  </p><p>It was actually several decades ago when Abe was a boy and they'd made one of their moves in the middle of the night, winding up in Paris. And he had surprised himself at how much he had shared with her this evening about his family and young life before his transformation. He knew that Abe hoped he would share more with her tonight about his long life. Was he really willing to do that now, though? Did he have the courage? Jo's voice cut into his thoughts.  </p><p>"Look, Henry," she said, looking up into the night sky. "There it is again."  </p><p>Henry looked up and stared in delighted awe at the pink balloon hovering about ten feet above them. His smile grew wider as it began a slow descent to once again face him at eye level. Of course, the balloon didn't have eyes but it leaned its bulbous top slightly forward as if to greet him. Henry found himself leaning forward slightly, as well. His forehead was only inches away from the swelled sphere and he felt more than heard its wordless intent.  </p><p>Jo looked on with a bit more trepidation than Henry. It was getting to him and she worried that something terrible might happen should it touch him. She spoke his name a couple of times to get his attention but he didn't seem to hear her. She hurried over to him on the other side of the table and put her hand on his upper arm, pulling him away. The balloon reacted immediately almost as if angered and whipped its rope at her hand. Although it stung, she tightened her grip on his arm and pulled him further away from it. As if more angered, it began to spin quickly around like a buzz saw with the rope cutting the air with a high-pitched buzzing sound. She covered Henry with her body and they both dropped to the floor. She would shoot the air out of the darn thing if it didn't leave them alone! She reached for her gun instinctively but realized in dismay that it was in her purse on the chair by the table. Her actions did appear to have woken Henry up, though. The glazed look left his eyes and he blinked rapidly while quickly assessing their situation. With a strength that she never imagined possible from him, he pushed her off of him and sprung to his feet in one fell swoop.  </p><p>"Stop! Please!" he yelled at the balloon. He raised his hands to shield his face from the buzz saw of a rope, bending over slightly to his right while pleading over and over for it to stop.  </p><p>Jo regained her balance enough to grab onto his pants leg while on her knees. He shook off her attempts to yank him back down to safety. Just as she thought to try again to reach her gun inside her purse, the balloon's spinning began to slow and the rope's centrifugal force weakening, dropped and twisted harmlessly from side to side like a child's abandoned swing. The buzzing stopped but left their ears ringing.  </p><p>It lowered itself once again to eye-level with Henry and they once again leaned slightly toward each other in silent communion, it seemed. This time, however, she thought it best not to interfere for fear of a repeat performance of the sphere's ... what? ... anger? No. Jealousy. She also noticed for the first time that its color had intensified to a bright red while it had been agitated but now it was slowly softening back to its pink bubble gum color. This could only be some crazy techno geek's weird gadget, she told herself. And she vowed that whoever was behind it would be found and she'd do like she'd once heard her boss, Lt. Reece, say: she'd break her foot off in their ---  </p><p>The balloon finally backed away from Henry and he stood up taller, mesmerized as it rose straight up as if on a wire and hovered for a second at about 30 feet above them. The rope hanging from it appeared to sway back and forth a bit as if waving farewell. Henry, sporting a wide-mouthed, wide-eyed smile, waved back to it as it took off like a shot in a straight line in an easterly direction again. Jo was still too much in awe of what she'd just seen to stand up. Henry turned and reached down, helping her up. They clung to each other as they watched the balloon become quickly swallowed up by the night sky.  </p><p>"Henry, what was that?" she asked. "I swear if this is someone's twisted idea of a joke --- "  </p><p>"Jo, your hand," Henry whispered, very concerned when he saw the large, reddened welt on the back of her right hand. Only then did she become aware of the stinging, throbbing pain.</p><p>"Let me take care of that for you," he told her.</p><p>They walked over to the table and she sat down feeling a bit of Deja vu as he tended to her injured hand much as he had when Koehler had struck her with a beaker of aconite poison. Back then, he'd set her hand on fire to burn the poison out before it could enter her bloodstream and kill her. Now, he did just the opposite by grabbing some ice cubes from the wine bucket and wrapping them in a cloth napkin. He then placed it on the injury and instructed her to hold it there until he returned.  </p><p>"Where are you going?" she asked. Before he could answer, she shook her head and left her chair, following him. "Not gonna leave me up here alone with that thing floating around out there. It might come back and strangle me with its rope."  </p><p> </p><p>vvvv  </p><p> </p><p>Thankfully, it didn't take them long to track down Jordan Evers' killer. The jerky video from Helen Upchurch's cell phone appeared to have been recorded as she and her husband walked along the park's footpath. The jerky movements coincided with each step she’d taken. The video panned slowly left and right until they were about 50 feet from where Jordan's body had been found.  </p><p>On the video, she was seen still alive and bent over her phone, apparently texting with Charmaine. A man dressed as a clown seen driving an ice cream truck had stopped near her on the bench. After a small crowd of mostly children had been served, the clown had attempted to engage a seemingly distracted Jordan in conversation. It was at this point that Upchurch must have become aware of the balloon because the view shifted upward to see it hovering over her. Jordan’s head, bowed over her cell phone, made her appear unaware that the clown was actually Kris Kennerman, a recently spurned lover. He reached out from the side of the truck and passed her a lidded drink in a cup with a straw. She attempted to pay for it but he waved her money away and she sat back down on the bench to enjoy her drink. He leaned out and looked surreptitiously in both directions before closing the truck’s side opening. His suspicious behavior supported Henry's theory of how the victim had died and Lucas' theory that the ex-boyfriend was responsible.  </p><p>The recording further showed Kennerson as he stepped out of the truck and walked over to Jordan, his body obscuring hers from view as she appeared to suddenly stiffen then go limp. He then picked up her cell phone and tossed it into the undergrowth just missing the pond, which may have been his intended target. Before getting into the truck, though, he squinted up at something. The phone's camera recorded him as he got into the truck and drove away then it aimed upward again to capture the balloon just as it had stopped and hovered over Jordan's lifeless body.  </p><p>"So, it was the 'bad ex-boyfriend thingy' just as Lucas had predicted," Jo said as she walked away from the Interview Room. They left behind an unremorseful Kennerman, who had confessed after the recorded evidence of his attack on Evers had been shown to him. "Imagine. He thought that the pink balloon was some kind of new surveillance drone the police had recently employed."  </p><p>Reece assured her that per information received from the Commissioner's office, no less, the police had no drone like that. Mike jokingly suggested that it was an experimental device that had escaped Henry's basement laboratory in the shop. Whatever it was, Jo thought to herself, it was dangerous.  </p><p>She, Mike, and Reece entered the bullpen and Reece went into her office. Jo and Mike sat down behind their respective desks. He watched her finger the pinkish-looking discoloration across the back of her hand, indicative of recent bruising. Thanks to Henry's expert medical care of the wound, the skin had not broken and she'd experienced only minimal discomfort from it. He really was a doctor, she acknowledged to herself with a slight smile.  </p><p>When Mike had first seen the wound, though, he had incurred her wrath when he'd teasingly asked if Molly Dawes had influenced them to try "the rough stuff". He wasn't about to have that happen again. Fact is, he really did like the Doc. Just couldn't figure the guy out. And his own first aid training told him that her wound would probably have looked much worse if Henry hadn't known how to attend to it the way he had. Okay, he said to himself, maybe he'd cut the guy some slack. Cut back on the jokes. Jo did appear to be a lot happier and more relaxed ever since they'd started dating. And they were dating. He was going to collect from that dating pool even though it had been pointed out to him by his fellow betters that no one had yet witnessed them kissing. So what? They were dating.  </p><p>But Jo hadn't really told him how she'd gotten the wound. Dropped her curling iron on her hand, she'd said. Karen had had a couple of those burns, he recalled. And a couple of years ago, they'd worked a case of a dead prostitute covered with burns from a curling iron. Jo's injury didn't exactly look like theirs. He concluded that her growing closeness with their secretive ME now caused her to start harboring secrets, too. He didn't dare tell her that there was another betting pool on what Henry's secrets were. Not even Lucas knew about this pool. He and his cohorts didn't want to risk anything leaking out to either of the two slow-paced lovebirds. As for Mike, his money was on the Doc being a former Bond-type secret agent seeking a more normal existence stateside. Normal? Ha! Cutting up dead bodies. Well ... still normal for that quirky guy, he decided.  </p><p>"Martinez." Jo knew whose voice that was. She looked up to see Reece standing by her desk. "See you in my office for a moment?"  </p><p>"Sure," Jo replied. She left her desk, ignoring Mike's pretense of ignoring them, and followed Reece into her office. Reece closed the door as she watched Jo take a seat in the same chair that Henry had sat in some time ago when she'd put his feet to the fire about his skinny dipping. The Lieutenant kept her eyes on Jo as she walked in front of her desk and leaned back on it. Her eyes dropped to Jo's injured hand and then back to Jo's questioning eyes.  </p><p>"Are you all right, Detective?" she asked. Her eyes dropped to the healing wound again. "Did you get that in the line of duty? It's not in your report."  </p><p>Jo took in a breath and worked to school her features. The truth would sound crazy. She couldn't tell her boss that a darn balloon had attacked her! The Lieutenant was probably worried that her injury was attributable to either a drunken accident at home or, worse, that she'd suffered abuse from one of her anonymous lovers. All of that was in the past, though. Not since the first day she'd met Henry in the OCME and locked eyes with him, had she even thought about picking up another man. Wow. This was the first time that she'd even realized it, too. As weird and unstable as she had first thought him to be, he has gradually proven to be a stabilizing influence in her life. Surely, Lieu had to be aware that she and Henry were, well, sort of dating now and he would never willfully harm her or anyone else. Only in self-defense as he'd been forced to do when he'd killed his stalker, Clarke Walker. There was only one option for her. She had to stick to the lie that she'd lain on Mike; that it was an accidental curling iron burn.  </p><p>Jo opened her mouth to let the lie spill out of her but a uni knocked on the door. Reece raised a hand to her but kept her eyes on Jo. The hand, to all of them, meant she needed a moment or for whoever was speaking to stop. But the uni knocked again and opened the door slightly, sticking her head in.  </p><p>"Sorry, Lieu," Ofc. Marie Denham apologized, "but we got a situation at the park near the East River. Chief of Police MacElroy is on Line 1."  </p><p>Reece immediately turned around and snatched the receiver off of the hook and depressed the blinking indicator light to take the call. "Chief MacElroy ... ... ... Yes, sir. Right away!" She hung up the phone with a clatter and leaned away from the desk to check her weapon at the same time that she was moving toward the door. "C'mon, Martinez," she said finally looking up as she neared the door. "444 (Officer-involved shooting) near the East River. Five officers shot, one of them believed dead."  </p><p>Jo had rushed from her chair and followed Reece out of her office. During their swing through the bullpen, they'd gathered as many others as possible to come with them, including Mike. Reece had barked orders to the skeleton crew remaining behind. "Denham, you're in charge," she told her just before they all got on the elevators and the doors closed. While they rode the elevators down to the lobby level, Reece called Raye Stafford, Head of the OCME to alert her to the situation and the possibility of a high body count.  </p><p> </p><p>____________________  </p><p>Notes:  </p><p>FICTION: Henry recalls that Abe was the little boy, who had enjoyed a special bond with the large, mysterious, red balloon in Paris and Albert Lamorisse had created the story and featurette after having read newspaper reports of Abe's experience.  </p><p>REALITY: This story is inspired by "The Red Balloon" (French: Le ballon rouge), a 1956 French fantasy comedy-drama featurette written, produced, and directed by Albert Lamorisse. The 35-minute  short, which follows the adventures of a young boy, Pascal (Pascal Lamorisse), who one day finds a sentient, mute, red balloon, was filmed in<span class="TextRun SCXW257203894 BCX0"><span class="NormalTextRun SCXW257203894 BCX0"> the </span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW257203894 BCX0"><span class="NormalTextRun SpellingErrorV2 SCXW257203894 BCX0">Ménilmontant</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW257203894 BCX0"><span class="NormalTextRun SCXW257203894 BCX0">neighborhood of Paris. As he plays with it, he realizes it has a mind and will of its own.</span></span></p><p>The balloon follows Pascal through the streets of Paris, and they draw a lot of attention and envy from other children as they wander the streets. A gang of older boys, envious of the balloon, steal it and eventually finish it off by stomping on it. The film ends as all the other balloons in Paris come to Pascal's aid and take him on a cluster balloon ride over the city.  </p><p><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Red_Balloon#Plot"> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Red_Balloon#Plot </a>  </p><p>Police crime codes found at wikipedia h<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Police_code#United_States"> ttps://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Police_code#United_States </a>  </p><p>Information on the consequences of consuming dry ice found at <a href="https://www.reddit.com/r/explainlikeimfive/comments/3r7inr/eli5_what_would_happen_if_i_swallowed_dry_ice"> https://www.reddit.com/r/explainlikeimfive/comments/3r7inr/eli5_what_would_happen_if_i_swallowed_dry_ice </a> </p><p>Also loosely inspired by "Star Trek" TV show S02/E09 episode Metamorphosis which aired 11/10/67 over the NBC network. Kirk, Spock, and McCoy encounter an entity of colorful lights that healed, de-aged, and lovingly keeps a man alive on a remote planet.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Pink Balloon Ch 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lt. Reece, along with Detectives Jo Martinez, Mike Hanson, and other members of her unit, crouched behind their cars, shielding themselves from the intermittent spray of bullets from a shooter hidden by the bushes hugging the edge of the East River. The nearby park and overhead walkway had been cleared of parkgoers. From their vantage point, they could only see the spot where the shooter was most likely hiding. The unprovoked attack on two unis as they had been walking through the area had left one of them, Ofc. Jeung, seriously injured. His partner, Ofc. Janice Rojas, although injured, too, had still managed to return fire while she helped Jeung get several feet away before he had collapsed. </p><p>Even though backup had arrived within minutes and Reece and crew minutes after that, three more officers had been hit. Thankfully, their injuries and Rojas’ were not as serious as Jeung’s was. The use of teargas had been proposed after attempted negotiations had failed and the shooter continued to hunker down in their spot and fire sporadically at them. The signal to use the gas was given shortly after Reece had arrived. Suddenly, a desperate voice rang out from the shooter’s hiding place. </p><p>“I’m not goin’ back in! I’ll kill myself before that happens!” </p><p>“You don’t need to do that!” the negotiator, Sgt. Fairbanks told him through the bullhorn. </p><p>“Th-those cops just rattled me; I thought they were comin’ for me!” </p><p>While Fairbanks once again urged the shooter to surrender, Reece asked the other officers if the shooter had been identified and they told her “Not yet”. Hanson proposed getting at the shooter from the overhead footpath behind him. At least they now knew from the sound of his voice that it was a male. And a desperate one, at that. </p><p>It seemed that Hanson’s proposed plan of neutralizing the shooter was being put into place when they saw a sharpshooter manage to sneak into position on the overhead footpath 50 yards away. Moments later, shots rang out and the sharpshooter ducked, causing some members of the armed response team to curse at their plan being outed. But it also made some of them wonder something else. </p><p>“Is it possible there’s more than one shooter?” Reece asked Sgt. Fairbanks. </p><p>“Well, it’s possible, Lieutenant, but …,” He suddenly stopped talking and his eyes grew wide as he pointed in the direction of the shooter’s position. “What the hell is that?” </p><p>Reece quickly looked in the direction he was pointing and saw a large, pink balloon like the one in Helen Upchurch’s phone video that had helped nail Kennerson. “Is that what I think it is?” she whispered. </p><p>“Yup,” Hanson replied, mesmerized. Jo remained silent, gulping down her anxiety. Why had the strange sphere returned? And what was it going to do? Their questions were answered in short order. </p><p>The balloon rose straight up from behind a cluster of bushes snatching two figures in military camouflage garb up with it. The thick, white rope attached to the bottom of it now encircled the torso of one shooter, pinning his arms against his body. The other shooter hung upside down with the tail end of the rope wrapped around his left ankle. As the unarmed duo dangled 15 feet above the ground and cried out for help, the responders moved in, awed and speechless at the sight. Fairbanks, Hanson, and a few others motioned for the balloon to lower the men and it slowly began to do so. As their feet touched ground, the rope gradually loosened and it allowed several unis to take charge of them.  The rope then retracted to its previous length of five feet. </p><p>Reece, having heard the murmurings of some of the other unis, couldn’t take her eyes off of the balloon but asked Jo and Hanson if it were true that it had shown up before at the Jordan Evers crime scene. Hanson reluctantly replied that it had but they had collectively decided to leave most of its interactions with them out of their reports.</p><p>Jo bit her lower lip but remained silent. They all kept their eyes on the pink sphere, though, almost hypnotized by it. Its captives freed, it now appeared to move slowly toward where Jo stood between Reece and Hanson. Jo gasped and stepped back as it lightly flicked its rope at her as if to brag that it was the better perp catcher. Hanson put up his left arm to cover Jo and held onto his firearm but pointed it at the ground. Something told him that that injury on her hand looked more like a rope burn. It inched a little closer and flicked its rope at her again. </p><p>“Hey, take it easy,” Hanson said to it and he couldn’t believe he was actually talking to a damn balloon! Even more unbelievable, it appeared to understand him. As it slowly backed away and withdrew its rope, he lowered his arm from in front of Jo and nodded, releasing a long-held breath. The sphere shot straight up at such an accelerated rate that it vanished from sight above them in a matter of seconds. </p><p>Reece pushed her eyebrows up and shook her head, then focused on her two detectives but mostly on the healed injury on Jo’s hand. “We need to talk,” is all she said. </p><p> </p><p>vvvv</p><p> </p><p>Later that afternoon,  the 11th Precinct … </p><p>Luckily, Ofc. Jeung’s wounds were not fatal. He and his four fellow officers would survive their wounds. The shooters were brothers Michael and Arthur Wade, former Army vets and white supremacists who had embraced conspiracy theories about the police being infiltrated by Chinese and North Koreans with the intent of taking over America. </p><p>Reece sighed as she sat behind her desk and Jo and Hanson sat in the two chairs facing her desk. “It’s amazingly sad the total crap some people choose to believe,” she lamented. “Even sadder is the fact that they actually acted on their misbeliefs and injured our guys, putting more of us at risk.” She looked between them and sighed again before saying, “And I’m glad that you guys shared the truth with me about this, this thing, this balloon that --- (she paused to laugh mirthlessly) --- scared the daylights out of the both of you more than once.” </p><p>“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” Hanson began as he shifted his weight in his chair. “Okay, okay, it spooked me,” he admitted. “The Doc sure didn’t seem to have a problem with it, though.” </p><p>A grin broke across Reece’s face. “Why am I not surprised?” she asked rhetorically. Both of them dropped their eyes to the light scar on Jo’s hand. </p><p>Jo rolled her eyes slightly. “It … acts like it’s jealous of me,” she reluctantly admitted. Her two companions chuckled. </p><p>“Are we to expect it to show up again from time to time?” Reece asked, incredulous. </p><p>“I wouldn’t know the answer to that,” Jo said. “I really don’t.” She did have mixed emotions about it since it had injured her out of apparent jealousy but captured the two perps earlier that day without a problem. Truth be told, she hoped it would snag on something somewhere and deflate. And she found it hard to feel sorry about hoping for that.  </p><p> </p><p>vvvv  </p><p> </p><p>Word of the pink balloon’s amazingly surreal capture of the two gunmen earlier that day, as well as its appearance the day before at Jordan Evers’ crime scene, spread quickly throughout the OCME. The news had also given life to a spate of jokes concerning its behavior toward Henry, adding a headache to Jo’s confusion regarding the oversized child’s toy. </p><p>“Hey, Martinez, better start carrying a stick pin,” one fellow detective had laughingly teased. </p><p>“Awww, she doesn’t have to pop it,” another had jokingly countered. “Just twist it into a cute little puppy dog; teach it to obey.” </p><p>When she glared at them and threatened to shoot each of them in the toe, they stifled their laughter and backed off. She’d been waiting for the elevator to arrive so that she could visit the morgue but then opted to take the stairs in order to get a breather from her grinning colleagues, plus it was much cooler in the stairwell. She emerged from the stairwell onto the basement floor and walked down the hallway and into the morgue. Before she could utter any greeting to either Henry or Lucas as she drew closer to them, Lucas dropped a bomb on her. </p><p>“Hey, Det. Martinez!” Lucas excitedly greeted her. “How about that thing shooting straight up through the stratosphere like that? It’s a UFO,” he declared. He glanced at Henry and added, “A lovesick UFO.” </p><p>A tiredly annoyed Henry closed his eyes and opened his mouth to say something but the words stuck in his throat. He blinked his eyes open and focused on Jo. “Good afternoon, Detective,” he said. “Won’t you step into my office where the air is a bit less electrically charged with fantasy?” </p><p>Jo grinned and preceded him into his office. Lucas watched them as they did so and he sent a parting jab. “Even if it’s not a UFO, it’s still got the hots for you, Doc.” </p><p>Once inside his office, he quickly closed the door behind him and turned to face her. He walked closer to her and said, “By the look on your face, I can assume that you have been weathering similar remarks made by your colleagues?”</p><p>An eye roll and a nod from her.</p><p>“I was afraid of that,” he said, looking over his shoulder in Lucas’ direction then back at her. </p><p>“Seems that everyone believes it’s jealous of me,” she said, teeth clenched. “Embarrassing!” </p><p>Henry took her injured hand in one hand and gently stroked the scar with the fingers of his other hand. “I’m sorry.” </p><p>“Not your fault, Henry,” she told him. “But can’t you stop all of this?” </p><p>“Stop it?” He scoffed. “And just how am I supposed to do that?” </p><p>“I don’t know. Talk to it again. Thank it for its help but let it know we’re fine without it,” she suggested. </p><p>“Jo, don’t be ridiculous!” he rasped. “It’s not human; it doesn’t have the power of speech.” </p><p>“But it was communicating with you,” she reminded him. “And only you.” She turned around as he stepped past her and walked over to his desk. “Have you … ever seen anything like that before?” </p><p>Blast! He was afraid of being asked that question by her. How he wished he didn’t have to lie but the truth would just be too fantastical. So, he formulated a half-truth with which to respond. “Like you probably have, I read a story penned in the 1950’s about a red one.” </p><p>Recognition and remembrance lit up her face. “Oh, my God, yeah. The Red Balloon.” She grinned and asked him, “Could that have been real?  Because this big pink one is for sure very real. Could this pink one be like the red one’s baby or maybe it was made in the same factory or something?” </p><p>He didn’t quite know how to reply to that. </p><p>“It does seem to like you, though. What does Abe have to say about all of this?” she asked. </p><p>He definitely didn’t know how to reply to that. </p><p>“Hey, let’s go talk to Abe about this,” she said. “I’ll bet he has a lot to say about this.” </p><p>A lot to say? She didn’t know the half of it.  </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Pink Balloon Ch 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Abe recalls his first encounter with a red balloon while in Paris in 1956. The pink one shows up at the shop while he is there alone. Henry and Jo race to his side.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> “ </em> <em> Hey, let’s go talk to Abe about this, strange, pink balloon,”  </em> Jo said to Henry <em> . “I’ll bet he has a lot to say about it.”  </em> </p><p><em> A lot to say? Henry thought to himself. She didn’t know the half of it. </em> </p><p> </p><p>vvvv  </p><p> </p><p>No matter how much Jo wanted to pick Abe’s brain about the strange balloon, Henry felt strongly that it would be best if she didn’t --- at least, not yet. Of course, he couldn’t tell her that. He had to keep them apart, though, until they could spin a believable yarn for her.  </p><p>He gulped before replying, “Let me phone him and find out when he’ll be available. I know he’s meeting with our accountant right now; that always takes a while and takes the wind out of his sails.”  </p><p>“Come to think of it, I almost forgot that I promised to be at my nephew’s Tae Kwon Do competition tonight,” she said. “How about dinner at my place tomorrow night?”    </p><p>“Sounds wonderful,” he replied with a smile and inner relief. It wasn’t easy constantly concocting lies to tell her. But soon, he promised himself, he would find the courage and the right time to tell her the truth about himself and his son. For that matter, what did Abe remember at all about that time in Paris with that odd, red balloon? </p><p>vvvv  </p><p> </p><p>Abe’s Antiques, later that same evening …  </p><p> </p><p>“That’s extraordinary!” a wonder-struck Abe declared. “Where was I when that pink doo-dad attacked you and Jo on the terrace?”  </p><p>“You had left earlier, remember?” Henry reminded him. “It was just the oddest thing. I haven’t experienced anything like this since … since the time we were in Paris when you were a boy.”  </p><p>Abe nodded as he recalled that time.  </p><p> </p><p>&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p><em> Paris 1956 …  </em> </p><p> </p><p><em> Eleven-year-old Abe had been so happy when he and his parents had first arrived in the colorful city of Paris, thinking that they were simply on holiday during his school’s week-long Easter vacation break. When his parents had finally told </em><em>him </em><em>that they weren’t returning to  </em> <em> New York, </em> <em>  he had become very sullen and withdrawn.  </em> </p><p><em> Things had not gotten any better for him when his parents had enrolled him in a nearby school attended by many of the children of American diplomats, military officers, and Parisian officials. Although the lessons were taught in both French and English, Abe had had a hard time assimilating into the school. He remained resentful of having left his friends in New York, especially that redheaded girl that he had shared a first kiss with, Fawn Mahoney. He missed riding his bike in Central Park with his buddies. And Baseball. Roller skating.  </em> <strong><em> Real </em></strong><em>football, not that kickball stuff!  </em> </p><p><em> Until one day, after once again having ditched school, he’d wandered through the streets and found himself at the foot of the Eiffel Tower on the Champs de Mars. He was drawn to the carousel and happily hopped onto it, mounting a white steed like the Lone Ranger’s horse, Silver. At the end of each cycle, he managed to avoid the ride attendant and remained on for three more rides before finally being shooed away. He shoved his hands down into his pockets and began heading back home.  </em> </p><p><em> When he reached the boulevard again, he paused to get his bearings before going any further. As he made his way back up the boulevard, uncertainty began to set in and he realized that he hadn’t kept track of landmarks or street signs, making it difficult to retrace his steps. His parents had to have learned already that he’d ditched school. Now, he was lost, it was getting late … boy, he was </em><em>gonna </em><em>get it when he got home! He closed his eyes against the sting of tears and rested his forehead against the cool steel of a street lamp. As he did so, he felt someone pat him on the back. His eyes flew open, thinking that Dad had somehow found him. But when he whirled around, he saw no one near him. The end of a thickly-braided brown rope dangled in front of his face and his eyes followed the six-foot length of it up to see a red balloon attached to it. He watched in awe as it lowered on its own to where it was eye level with him. Somehow it conveyed to him that it was a friend and that it should trust him.  </em> </p><p><em> “Sure,” Abe had barely whispered, totally unafraid and mesmerized by it.  </em> </p><p><em> It silently asked him to allow it to wrap its rope around him and after swelling from a diameter of ten inches to nearly 80 inches, it lifted him up, high above the city, and whisked him home. </em> </p><p> </p><p>&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;  </p><p> </p><p>“That odd sphere deposited you right in front of our building just as your mother and I were headed out to search for you,” Henry told him. “We were so glad to see you and so astonished at seeing how you returned home that all plans of punishing you were abandoned.” He paused and tilted his head in contemplation. “Although, I’m not sure that was a wise decision on our part.”  </p><p>“Well, that ‘odd sphere’ became my best friend,” Abe said, smiling broadly.   </p><p>“Until the little boy that lived across the hall from us snatched it from you and ran down the stairs with it,” Henry said.  </p><p>“Yeah. Little creep,” Abe grumbled. “I remember I ran after him but he tripped and fell and busted it.”  </p><p>Henry eyed his son for a few moments before asking, “Abraham … I remember that you gathered it up and packed it away in your room somewhere. Do you still have it?”  </p><p>Abe’s deep sigh lifted his shoulders and then lowered them. “Yeah. Yeah, I do. It, it was just the most phenomenal thing I’d ever seen,” he explained. “Well, besides you, that is,” he conceded, chuckling.  </p><p>Henry chuckled along with him and nodded in agreement. He then raised his eyebrows and informed him that Jo wanted to talk to him about the pink balloon.  </p><p>“Why?” he asked, confused. “I haven’t even seen this one.”  </p><p>“She has come to value your opinion on a great many subjects,” Henry told him. “And --- I may have led her to believe that you had a similar encounter with the red balloon.”  </p><p>“You told her about our time in Paris?!?” Abe asked, incredulous.  </p><p>“Not <em>our </em>time,” Henry clarified. “You and … your parents.” He locked eyes with the younger man until he knew he understood.  </p><p>“Got it. Got it,” Abe said, heaving a deep sigh. “You didn’t tell her about you. Okay, um … but I still don’t know why she needs to know any of this.”  </p><p>“It attacked her if you’ll recall. Just --- humor her if she asks you,” Henry suggested. “And I’m nowhere in the story.”  </p><p>“Yeah, yeah, Dad, I know the drill,” Abe wearily replied, flopping a hand up and down.  </p><p> </p><p>vvvv  </p><p> </p><p>The OCME the next day, late afternoon …  </p><p> </p><p>Jo, at first disappointed when Henry had told her that Abe would not be joining them at her home for dinner, grudgingly forgave him when Henry shared the reason why. </p><p>“There’s something about those meetings with his friend and accountant, Myron, that just saps the energy out of him,” he jovially told her.  </p><p>“Poor Abe,” Jo said with a mock frown. “Hope he doesn’t owe too much.”  </p><p>“Oh, quite the contrary, the business is due for a sizable refund.”  </p><p>“Well, then why does he ---?”  </p><p>“Abraham swears that Myron speaks slower and slower each year,” he explained. “It takes longer and longer each time for Myron to get him through all of that paperwork making the happy ending not so happy anymore,” he chuckled.  </p><p>They had just left the precinct and were walking toward Jo’s car when her cell phone rang. She quickly answered it, expecting it to be either Hanson or Reece informing her of a body. She frowned slightly and looked at Henry, handing him the phone. “It’s Abe,” she told him. “He sounds rattled.”  </p><p>Suddenly concerned, Henry took the phone from her and after a few moments of listening, urged Abe to “try to remain calm” and that they were on their way to the shop now. He ended the call and handed it back to Jo.  </p><p>“Is he okay?” she asked as they all but jogged over to her car and she hurriedly unlocked it and they got in. “He sounded kind of … scared,” she said as they both buckled up.  </p><p>Henry’s rapid heartbeat caused his voice to tremble as he replied, “It’s there. I don’t know why it showed up again but it’s there and he says it appears to be very agitated.” Its attack on Jo after having become agitated remained fresh in their minds but neither of them wanted to give voice to their fears. Instead, Jo gunned the car through traffic in the direction of the shop, both of them hoping that Abe remained safe and unharmed until they could get there.   </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Pink Balloon Ch 4 END</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> They were just outside the precinct when Jo’s cell phone rang. She quickly answered it, and frowning slightly, looked at Henry and handed him the phone. “It’s Abe,” she told him. “He sounds rattled.”   </em> </p><p><em> Suddenly concerned, Henry took the phone from her and after a few moments of listening, told Abe to “try to remain calm” and that they were on their way to the shop now. </em> </p><p> </p><p>vvvvvvvv  </p><p> </p><p>Abe had left the shop’s retail area and climbed the stairs up to the rooftop terrace. After hearing his father relate how the mysterious pink balloon had attacked Jo and him the night before, he wanted to make sure no damage had been done to any of the plants or furniture up there. Once there, he inspected the patio furniture and then the plants and irrigation pipes along the perimeter of the terrace. The wall nearest the stairs displayed the shadow of an object with a familiar, bulbous shape. He slowly turned around and saw the now infamous pink balloon hovering ten feet above the eating table. It slowly lowered itself and he watched, speechless, as the thick, white rope attached to the bottom of it rested on the table in a circular pattern similar to that of a coiled snake. Only this wasn’t a snake. Snakes were alive. This wasn’t alive --- was it? The sight of it dredged up memories of his boyhood encounter with the large red one in Paris.  </p><p>“Hey, uh, hi, there,” he managed to nervously stammer out. “I-I-I'm Abe. Maybe, uh, your, uh, big red friend told you about me?” He chuckled nervously but tensed tightly when the rope suddenly straightened out and flicked at him. “Okay. Guess you didn’t like that.” He swallowed and eyed the entrance to the stairs, mentally calculating the distance between them and himself and how quickly he could escape down them. He took a tentative step sideways toward them and the rope flicked out at him again, causing him to abruptly stop and stand at rigid attention. Gathering courage that he didn’t know he still had, he thought it best to try again to communicate with it.  </p><p>“Look, you kinda scared my friends a couple of nights ago,” he began, “and just for the record, you’re scarin’ the heck outta me now. But nobody means you any harm. Just lemme know what you want; why you’re here.”  </p><p>It appeared to understand because its color deepened to red and the rope’s white color darkened to brown for all of three seconds, then it reverted back to its original appearance.  </p><p>“Oh, you do know him,” he said with a slight grin. The rope quickly flicked at him and he quickly corrected his statement. “Sorry. You know <b> her </b>.” The sphere momentarily softened to a lighter shade of pink before reverting once again to its original color. Aw, man, he silently lamented. If it was this temperamental from not hearing what it wanted to hear, how would it react at seeing the tattered remains of its … what, mother? Aw, man!  </p><p>A breath barely escaped Abe while his thoughts raced through his mind. The balloon appeared to react over his hesitation and it swelled from a 60” width to more than 80” in a matter of mere moments. “Okay, okay,” he told it, patting a hand at it as he moved quickly toward the stairs. “I’ll go get it, uh, her. I’ll go get <b>her</b>! Wait right there; just give me a minute,” he begged.  </p><p>As he descended the stairs, the thought crossed his mind that maybe he should just get the hell out of the shop and put some distance between the angry pink balloon and himself. He made it only as far as the shop’s entrance when the balloon suddenly dropped down in front of it, effectively barring his escape. The rope flicked a few times against the outside of the door and Abe now knew that meant it was angry. He backed away from the door and hurried over to the stairs.  </p><p>“Okay, okay. Sorry!” he loudly told it. “You win!” As he climbed the stairs to the second level and rushed into his bedroom, he grumbled to himself that he was getting too old for this kind of … stuff.  </p><p>Once in his bedroom, he opened the closet door and moved several items aside on the top shelf. Finally, he was able to bring out a shoebox with twine tied around it. He brought it out to his bed and fished his pocket knife out of his pocket. After cutting through the twine, he pocketed the knife and hesitated slightly before gently lifting the lid off of the box. His heart sank at the sight of it. The red, stretchy material was shrunken and shriveled with a large blowout of a hole the size of a fist on the left side of it. The rope, however, was intact although not as full and sturdy-looking as it had been when it was still … alive. Okay, this thing had been alive, he conceded. It --- she --- had certainly lifted him out of the doldrums during that magical time in Paris so long ago. But how was that pink one going to react when it saw it like this? He already knew that it could be violent and had witnessed its anger for himself. No, he decided. He wasn’t going to face this thing alone. Dad. He had to call Dad. Dang! How he wished Dad would carry a cell phone. He grabbed the shoebox and tucked it under his arm. Then, he moved quickly to the landline phone near the fireplace. After no luck reaching his father at the morgue, he tried calling Jo. He breathed a prayer of thanks when she picked up and handed the phone to Henry.  </p><p>“Pops, ya gotta come home,” he told him in a rush. “Now! … Because that pink thing is here! Pops, ya gotta come help me deal with it! … Okay, I’ll try to remain calm but hurry, please!” He released a long breath and hung up the phone. Stay calm, he told himself. Stayyy calmmm.  </p><p> </p><p>vvvv  </p><p> </p><p>Abe wasn’t sure how long he had taken refuge in his bedroom before he heard the shop’s bell tinkle and realized that Dad and Jo had arrived. His father’s voice boomed his name out and he yelled back in response. They met at the top of the stairs and Abe pointed up toward the ceiling.  </p><p>“It’s up there,” he told them. “And it’s not in a very good mood.”  </p><p>Henry’s eyes dropped down to the shoebox Abe was holding with both hands. “Is … that it?” he asked.  </p><p>“Turns out it’s not an ‘it’ but a ‘she’,” Abe clarified.  </p><p>Jo stepped closer and whispered, “It wants its Mama.”  </p><p>Henry’s eyes widened and moved back and forth. He washed his hand over his mouth and said, “That’s what I felt. When it was here the other night. That, that feeling of … parent and child.” He frowned, then a smile overtook his features. “It was trying to ask me where its mother was.”  </p><p>That wasn’t the whole truth but he couldn’t divulge it to Jo since she didn’t know what his true relationship was to Abe. He took the shoebox from Abe and walked up the stairs to the rooftop terrace with it, Abe and Jo close behind him. When he cleared the landing, he looked over his shoulder at Jo and gently suggested that it was probably best that the balloon did not see her. Jo responded with a roll of her eyes but she remained on the stairs out of sight anyway.  </p><p>“You, too, Abraham,” Henry advised him. “Stay with Jo.” Abe sighed and nodded mutely. Henry then cautiously approached the pink balloon and placed the box on the table near its coiled-up rope.  </p><p>“Before I show you what’s in this box,” he told the pink oddity, “please understand that we had nothing to do with harming your … your mother.”  </p><p>He lifted the lid and set it down next to the box. He eyed the pink balloon briefly before gently lifting the remnants of the red one out and laying it out on the table. He then walked backward and rejoined Abe and Jo near the stairs, keeping his eyes on the balloon. Abe was poised on the second step while Jo was further down. But they all watched anxiously as the two spheres began to interact with each other.  </p><p>The pink one bent down over the tattered red one as if reverently greeting it. It then began to deflate to three-quarters of its size and then inflate back to its original size at a rhythmic pace consistent with someone administering CPR. After four or five attempts, the red one appeared to begin to react. The rise and fall motions of its surface were at first only slightly noticeable but gradually increased in volume and height with each attempt. At the same time, the hole on the left of it began to mend itself which allowed the red sphere to gradually increase in size and round out to its previous 80” diameter. Its red color returned to its original brilliance and it slowly rose to hover next to the pink one. The two oddities touched their bulbous “heads” to each other sparking an exchange of colors in gradient shades of pink and red that spanned outward over them from the point of where they touched.  </p><p>Abe and Jo now emerged from the stairwell and stood next to Henry as the three of them gaped in awe at the beautiful sight. A mother and child reunited after 60 years! No matter that they weren’t human; a living spirit most definitely resided in both of them rooted in love.  </p><p>“So beautiful,” Jo said breathlessly. Although she truly thought that, she was also mindful of how the pink one had attacked her the other night. So, she positioned herself slightly behind Henry. Slightly. Her police training and Spanish Harlem upbringing would not allow her to fully take cover.  </p><p>The two elastic spheres moved forward across the table and lowered themselves to eye level with the trio. The red one appeared to give a wordless command to the pink one with a subtle tip of its “head” to the side and then forward at Jo. The end of the pink one’s white rope slowly lifted up and moved toward Jo.  </p><p>“I believe she’s apologizing,” Henry quietly informed Jo with a smile. Jo timidly reached out her hand prepared to engage in a friendly “handshake” of sorts but it gently rubbed the healed scar on the back of her hand and withdrew. “You’ve made a friend, Jo.”  </p><p>The bulbous pair then lifted quickly straight up to about 20 feet. Their rope tails appeared to gently wave farewell before they rose even higher, dancing around each other, and then vanishing up into the stratosphere.  </p><p>“My God, Henry,” Jo declared. “That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever experienced. Did you ever think that anything like that could even exist in this world?”  </p><p>Henry gulped and managed to keep a pleasant smile on his face. “Anything like what we’ve just seen? No, never.” Behind her, over her shoulder, Henry saw Abe rolling his eyes as he fought back his laughter. He then suggested that they all go downstairs and Abe stepped aside to let Jo go first.  </p><p>Once downstairs, they dined on Chinese takeout and discussed the strange encounters with both balloons into the wee hours of the morning. For that reason, Jo accepted the men’s invitation to spend the night again. After they’d tucked her in on the sofa in the living area, she’d fallen asleep as soon as her head had hit the pillow. Henry and Abe tiptoed away into the kitchen where they both eyed the empty shoebox now in the wastebasket.  </p><p>“Think Lucas was right?” Abe asked. “They’re UFO’s?  </p><p>“I simply have no idea, Abraham,” Henry replied. “But wherever they are, they’re together again and very happy.”  </p><p>Abe turned off the kitchen light and they headed down the hall to their respective bedrooms. After Henry entered his room, Abe scooted in after him and gently closed the door. He turned around and asked him exactly how he knew the balloons were a mother/daughter duo. “I know you, Dad. You held back from Jo.”  </p><p>Henry sighed and smiled before replying. “It conveyed its need by having me once again feel the weight of that special baby as I held him in my arms for the first time.”  </p><p>“Me?” Abe asked, his eyebrows raised. His father nodded. “Wow.” He blinked back happy tears and cleared his throat. “Do you think we’ll ever see ‘em again?”  </p><p>“I certainly hope so, Abraham,” Henry replied. “I certainly hope so.”  </p><p> </p><p>END  </p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>